The Knights of the Wand
by Gaereth
Summary: Albus Dumbledore has healed. Albus Dumbledore has waited. Albus Dumbledore has suffered. But his time is nearly gone. Soon, now, his death will come, and with it a release from his oath. He was a Knight of the Wand, and he served the true King of Britain.


Final Thoughts of a Legend

Disclaimer: I do not own anything that has to do with Harry Potter or any subsequent characters or stories. I do not claim any form of ownership of anything, excepting this story in specific. ;P

AN: My first real 1-shot that was actually meant to be a one-shot. Incredible, I know:)

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_With wand in hand, we pacify those who threaten our people._

_With wand in hand, we shield our allies from harm._

_With wand in hand, we bring an end to battles and bloodshed._

_With wand in hand, we sow peace and prosperity in equal measure._

_With wand in hand, we take the path of servitude, seeking no glory._

_With wand in hand, we give freely to those in need._

_With wand in hand, we seek a brighter future._

_With wand in hand, we persevere._

_For the greater good, we will serve._

_So do we swear._

Albus Dumbledore leaned back in his large chair, closing the book before him with a muffled thump. His brilliant azure eyes stared up at the ceiling, moist with unshed tears and bloodshot from fatigue. His flowing white beard, usually immaculately groomed, was tangled and in disarray, and dark circles could be seen around his eyes. His hands were shaking as they stroked the worn leather of the ancient tome, and his clothes were grimy and wrinkled. He looked as if sleep was both what he needed most and what he feared most.

Blinking the tears out of his eyes, he picked the book up with loving hands, cradling it to him as he would an infant. As he stood and walked to his expansive bookshelves, memories of the writer of that book flooded through him, filling him with an aching longing. It was as if that summer, all those years ago, had come again, and he was but a young man again, full of brilliant ideas and bright ambition. The eager discussions, the cut and thrust of their deates, they echoed through his memory as if it had been only yesterday. Never had he had such a good friend, or such a brilliant one. Truly, they could have been brothers, had the fates willed it.

Gellert Grindelwald. The Scourge of Europe. The Terror of Russia. The Nazi Warlock. The Dark Master, whose infamy was surpassed only by that of Voldemort.

The greatest friend Albus Dumbledore had ever had, and a tremendous ally.

He slid the book into the shelf with a sorrowful sigh, saddened by the knowledge of his friend's impending death. Soon, by all accounts, Tom would seek out the Elder Wand, and the trail would lead through Grindelwald. Albus knew this, and was saddened greatly. But... perhaps that meant that they might yet meet again, on that far shore. For Albus faced his own death. Within a week, maybe less, he would begin the end. He would take Harry to the lake, and there seize one of Tom's Horcruxes. His final good deed, his last task.

Soon, his oath would be fulfilled, and he could rest.

He remembered the oath he had taken, that vow of secrecy and servitude. In his search for penance, he had sought a way to redeem himself. And he had found it. He, together with Grindelwald, had found that secret island. The crystal island, the forbidden land.

The Isle of Avalon.

There he had found his goal. There, kneeling at the feet of the Once and Future King, he had discovered a way to serve and to heal, rather than to kill and hurt. Along with his friend, he had joined that most holy and sacred of orders; he had become a Knight of the Round Table.

From then on, his life and breath had been dedicated to the servitude of king and country, and he ever sought a way to bring peace and prosperity to Britannia. But... the path was not always easy. As they sat in their places at that great table, they were given their assignments. England was in dire peril from within, not from without. It was better to cut away the canker than to let it lie, eating at the foundations of their great kingdom. Not only that, but it faced grave danger from without. Germania, the chained hound of war, was stirring once more, straining at the leash. Soon it would break free, and its wrath would fall upon Europe like a thunderbolt.

Grindelwald, powerful and cunning as he was, was meant to tame that thunderbolt, to harness its power. Then, with all the magic and strength at his disposal, he would lead the assault upon Europe, forcing them to unite and defend themselves. It was a task that suited his warlike mind, but he liked it not, finding that his conscience would not abide these deeds. But, since his king had demanded it, he swore to do it, and set himself about his work with his customary single-mindedness. After all, he had consoled himself, it was for the greater good.

As for Albus, the King had commanded him to tarry awhile, to perfect his mastery of the arcane and the unknown. But, just as Merlin had of old, he must keep himself strictly to the path of White Magic, forsaking any and all sorceries that dwelt with the realm of Black Magic. For, as the King had explained, even though Magic itself can be used for either purpose, the people must not see him using the dark energies to accomplish his tasks, for they would not understand. No, Dumbledore must be the shining example to them, dedicating himself to the path of healing and defense, while Grindelwald concentrated on the darker side of the arcane. One would be the sword, to cut away the evil that clung to Europe, while the other would be the healer, bringing balm to the stricken nations.

Even if that meant death, for one or both of them.

For once, the gods were on their side, and neither of them had to die to achieve their goal. What was once a divided and feuding land became a conglomeration of equals, allying themselves against the evil. Albus was praised as their savior, while Grindelwald was sentenced to eternal imprisonment in Normungarde. And so, both of the two friends found themselves trapped in a cage; Grindelwald in an earthly prison, while Dumbledore dwelt in a dungeon of guilt, wishing there was some way to bring reprieve to his old friend. But there was nothing he could do. Not now.

His time was done; the sands in his hourglass had nearly run their course. Soon, he would find the peace of mind that he longed for, which only Death could bring him. He had lived by the wand, and he would die by the wand. He would fall in the service of his King and Country, and his only regret was that he would not see the day of his Lord's return, when the Once and Future King would reclaim the throne of England and lead them to a glorious and peaceful future. But he had done his best to see that the day would come the sooner. He had served, and now it was his time to rest.

With wand in hand, he would face his fate.

With wand in hand, he would embrace it.

With wand in hand, he would end it.

_For the greater good._

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AN: I know, this deviates a tad bit from what I normally write, but I couldn't resist. I just got bored, didn't want to type on my Naruto fics, and wasn't too into my crossover at the moment. I picked up the final Harry Potter book and felt a shock run through my system. Thirty minutes later, this was on my laptop. It's been sitting there ever since. So, now I post it, so that you guys can read and hopefully enjoy. :D

'Til next time,

Gaereth


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